Katie Tanaka had spent the past few seconds looking through that one bag. And guess what she found? Dynamite. Three sticks of it. Well, that could help. But it wasn't like a gun or anything.

Who was on the trip, anyways? She could barely remember. Where were they going? Oh god, her memory went and imploded on itself or something. Maybe it was a dream. And that was why she didn't remember where they were going or who was there.

But, the second she woke up in what appeared to be a saloon?

She screamed. As loud as she could.

Her throat was still somewhat aching. Oh well.

But hey! Saloon! Katie guessed that they were sending out a message to her to drown her sorrows. Maybe that was the message. "Here little girl, get drunk, for tomorrow you die!" It seemed a pretty decent message to her. Maybe if she got drunk, she wouldn't give as much a shit.

After removing it from under the bar, she uncorked it and brought it to her nose. Smelled bitter. And slowly she brought it to her lips. It was worth sipping, right?

Wrong.

The liquor she had sipped promptly hit the bar.

Oh god, that was awful! It tasted... it tasted like shit! That was the only thing she could call it! Shit! Katie grimaced a bit as she tried to get the taste out of her mouth. Okay, bad idea. Didn't help her headache, either. So she wasn't a booze person after all.

Placing the bottle back on the bar, she went out from behind it and placed herself on a stool, kicking her legs. She had to admit, though, it was kind of cool. The place seemed kind of Western-y, for lack of a better term. Seriously, all this bar needed was a bartender who would serve any cowboys. And bandits who would play cards and fight each other at the top of a hat.

Oh dear. She still couldn't figure out whether this was awesome or awful.

Bake We'll just ask Elena to add a new area into the compound. "Siobhan's Cleavage" - The spaciously large cleavage of an overweight, promiscuous cheerleader who wants to go to Beauty School. THREADS ALLOWED: 8

12:40 Slamexo She [Sidney] sells trollin' and trollin' accessories

02:41 Medic Why does the world hate my racist jackass--wait that speaks for itself.

Somehow, Warren had not seen the pigtailed Japanese girl when he scanned the room. Probably, she had been lying beneath a table or on the far side of the bar.

He definitely noticed her when she screamed. He set down the gun manual and watched as she walked behind the bar and sipped a drink from a whiskey bottle. He giggled to himself as he watched her spit it out violently across the bar. That was when he recognized the girl. It was Katie Tanaka.

He waited until she was comfortably seated on a stool at the bar before he spoke. He kept his voice low and rough to fit in with the atmosphere of the saloon. "Well hello there, little lady. There'll be water in your backpack."

She knew him. She knew a good portion of the folks at Alderbrook, really. That was Warren Davies, wasn't it? Hockey player, that she knew. Would he hurt her?

Wait a tic... how long had he been there?! Was he just watching the entire time? Watching her scream, watching her look through her stuff, watching her drink the awful tasting booze... watching, watching...

And suddenly, the brief amount of fear she had felt changed to a new emotion. It didn't make sense, given the circumstances, and Katie didn't feel it very often.

But that feeling? Was embarrassment. Pure raw embarrassment. She wasn't shameless or anything like that. There were certain things she wouldn't let herself be caught doing. But she was quite the confident sort.

There was a thing, though. Cowboys didn't feel shame. If they were caught screaming and spitting out booze, they did it in the most badass way possible.

So what did this cowgirl do? She did the first thing to come to mind.

Force a smile.

Make a gesture of tipping an imaginary hat.

And...

"Howdy, partnah! I believe water is everywhere here in the town without a name! Water be quite precious to us townfolk!"

She had tried her best to appear casual, to put on her best (clearly fake) Western accent, and to make this as not awkward as possible.

Katie just hoped he wasn't playing.

Her eyes fell on the bottle. Okay, time to segue and make a peace offering.

She hurriedly grabbed it and held it out.

"Want some? Not mah cup of tea, but ya know. Take a sip if ya so desire!"

Bake We'll just ask Elena to add a new area into the compound. "Siobhan's Cleavage" - The spaciously large cleavage of an overweight, promiscuous cheerleader who wants to go to Beauty School. THREADS ALLOWED: 8

12:40 Slamexo She [Sidney] sells trollin' and trollin' accessories

02:41 Medic Why does the world hate my racist jackass--wait that speaks for itself.

He hadn't meant to startle Katie, but when she spun around on the barstool, she was momentarily without her usual poise. She regained it quickly, though. She gave a tip of an imaginary hat, a few words in a fake western accent, and an offer to share a drink. Warren smiled broadly, not so much at her, but at the situation they were both in.

"If you're sure you don't want the booze, I'll take it off your hands for you. I'm guessing we won't be finding much of value around these parts." He stood up and walked moseyed over to the saloon doors, casting a glance out onto the streets. "I'll wager this is meant to be an old west ghost town," he said over his shoulder to the girl. "Most ghost towns aren't a 'hurry up and evacuate' thing, they're more a 'there's no jobs so we should skedaddle before we starve' thing."

He walked back to the dark corner table. "If that 'sheriff' person was right, we're going to need all the gear and supplies we can find soon enough." He sat down again, picked up the playing cards and began to shuffle. "Care for a game?"

What he didn't say was far more important. If the Sheriff meant for us to kill each other, what will he do if we don't. I can't think of any Alderbrook students who would willingly commit murder. There has to be more to this 'game' than is obvious yet.

He seemed to accept her offer of the booze. That was good. It seemed to be a good idea, to offer an offering of sorts.

The part about people moving away out of starvation worried Katie a tiny bit. They had plenty of food in their packs, certainly! It was just if they ran out and couldn't find anything....

Wait, there had to be wild animals about, right? Katie had never gone hunting before. It was mostly hiking about and looking at the sights for her. But she could do it. Perhaps she could find a quail or something. Did quail even live here? Maybe coyotes. But oh god, no coyotes please. Coyotes seemed like they'd be scary.

But yes! Supplies! They needed to find extra water, and extra food, and weapons, and a whole lot of stuff. You couldn't hunt quail with dynamite, after all. Though she saw Youtube videos where they tossed dynamite into a pond and all the fish came up. That was awesome, though she couldn't help but wonder if it was harmful to the environment.

Anyways, Warren went back to the table in the corner and seemed to pick up a pack of cards, and offered her to play cards with him.

Well, it didn't seem he had intent to kill her, at least. So she pulled herself off the stool, grabbed the bottle, and walked over to get a seat at the table.

After pulling out a chair, she placed the bottle down and pushed it towards him.

"Alright, I'm game fer a game of cards!" Katie said.

Nothing like a game of cards to ease the tension, right?

"Also, I think we should, ya know, look fer thangs to hunt and cook up sometime before nightfall!" she hastily mentioned as well. "Oh, and what are we playin'?"

She mostly kept up the accent because... why not? At least it made things feel a little better, to pretend that this was some Western movie.

Bake We'll just ask Elena to add a new area into the compound. "Siobhan's Cleavage" - The spaciously large cleavage of an overweight, promiscuous cheerleader who wants to go to Beauty School. THREADS ALLOWED: 8

12:40 Slamexo She [Sidney] sells trollin' and trollin' accessories

02:41 Medic Why does the world hate my racist jackass--wait that speaks for itself.

Katie sat down at the table and set the bottle of whiskey on the table beside her, then pushed it toward him. Warren couldn't help but smile again. She was continuing to speak in that old west accent, and it looked so weird coming out of the mouth of a small Japanese girl. He counted out a two stacks of white chips, a stack of red chips, and a half-dozen blue ones. He pushed those to Katie's side of the table, then counted out the same amount for himself.

"Also, I think we should, ya know, look fer thangs to hunt and cook up sometime before nightfall. Oh, and what are we playin'?"

He started dealing the cards to each of them. "There seems to be plenty of food and water in the packs... well, mine anyway. So we shouldn't have to worry about hunting anything for at least a couple of days. As for the game? Assuming that this town is supposed to be set around the 1870s or 1880s, the latest type of poker around would have been five card draw with deuces wild."

Warren looked at the five cards he'd dealt himself: King of Clubs, eight of Spades, seven of Spades, four of Diamonds, and deuce of Spades. Hmmm, that's good for a pair of kings right there. Trying for a flush in spades looks like a low-chance draw, and the king is useless if I try to go for a straight. I'd better draw three and hope for more kings and deuces.

He looked to Katie. "It'll be one round of betting, then draw cards, then a second betting round and see whose hand wins. Would you like to start the first round of betting, lass?"

Oh shit, we're about to die. Let's play poker. But really, playing poker was fun! She thought. She had never really played it before, for some reason. But she was about to die. Might as well take care of that detail before it happened.

So the cards were sorted out. Katie took a look at her hand. Well! That was a nice one, from what she knew. She knew her hand was nice. Wait, that's right. Poker face! Make yourself look like you didn't have a good hand. Keep all stoney-faced. Like this. There you go. See? It wasn't hard, keeping a poker face. It was like acting. You just had to picture something that wouldn't make you smile, like kittens dying or getting killed by someone. Both were pretty bad. Kittens didn't deserve to die. And dying sucked ass. Both sucked ass. Especially if you combine the two at once.

So, she had her hand, and it was a good one. Goody.

Alright, now it was time to beat him!

"Alrighty, hun. Just keep in mind that this is mah first time playing. I do know the rules though. I think."

Also, how long was she going to keep up this accent? Knowing her, probably until she gave her last breath. That was to be expected, to be honest.

After thinking, she pushed forward two chips. One red, one blue.

"Alright, bet set, if I got this right?"

Damn it. You'd think that with all the movies she'd seen, she'd be a bit more familiar with poker. Now, now was the best time to get familiar with it.

Bake We'll just ask Elena to add a new area into the compound. "Siobhan's Cleavage" - The spaciously large cleavage of an overweight, promiscuous cheerleader who wants to go to Beauty School. THREADS ALLOWED: 8

12:40 Slamexo She [Sidney] sells trollin' and trollin' accessories

02:41 Medic Why does the world hate my racist jackass--wait that speaks for itself.

With his earplugs snugly tucked into his ears, Ken was dull to the world. The walk to the center of town was a short one, but other than the concentration of buildings there was not a single difference from the outskirts that he had rested in. Still hot, dusty, and completely empty. Kenneth was starting to get worried; he hadn't encountered a single soul in the long trek to town, and now even the ghost town was more ghostly than he could have imagined. While it felt like it would be a focal point for the kids searching for shelter and safety, he saw nobody. It was dead.

Ken stopped in front of the saloon, swatting at a gnat that flew by his ear. Just like the train station, the sign was worn and faded, but still readable. It certainly wasn't a large town, but it fit the stereotype of an Old West ghost town right down to the swinging doors.

As he prepared to enter the darkness of the empty building, he caught a bit of motion in the corner of his eye. Whipping around and feeling his pack slam into the doors and send them wildly swinging against the walls, he saw that it was just a tumbleweed.

Katie looked at her cards and a big grin flowed over her face. She really didn't know anything about hiding the value of her hand or the term 'poker face'. She must have something really nice. Maybe a three of a kind or two pair or something.

After Warren explained the two rounds of betting, she placed $30 of chips in the center of the table. Warren kept his face frozen, but inwardly he groaned. Don't worry, man. I've got a wildcard and may be able to get better with the draw cards. Besides, this isn't real money; it's just the chips I found waiting here on the table. "All right, I'll see your thirty;" he placed his own chips in the pot. "How many cards do you want?"

When she indicated three, he dealt three new cards to her and three to himself, keeping only his king and deuce. He looked at the new cards and pressed his lips together in satisfaction before relaxing his face again. He placed his forefinger on his pile of red chips and looked to Katie. "Would you like to bet again?"

Before she had a chance to answer, the swinging saloon doors burst open with a 'bang'. Warren grabbed the sawed-off shotgun, ducked below the level of the table and aimed at the door. He didn't see anyone enter, though.

Katie stared at her new hand. Hmmm... not that much she could really do with that, could she? Oh dear. And she was so lucky before! Damn damn damn. Damn damn, damn damn.

Damn.

But oh look, why was he making that weird face? Did he have something fun? He must have. Otherwise, why would he make that weird face, or maybe- oh hell. Did she break poker face? She did, didn't she? Well... that sucked. Not as much as dying, but still sucked.

And then... look what the cat brought in!

The doors creaked- or, slammed open- with the poise of a swan gracefully crashing into a Jenga set. Seriously, someone-who she couldn't see right now- was making a lot of banging noises for the act of entering a building. And that was suspicious. Maybe it was a bandit! A no-good bandit!

Warren pulled out what appeared to be a sawn-off shotgun and hid under the table. Oh, so that was his weapon. She didn't even ask, and it was right there the entire time? Really? He didn't know what was hers either. Maybe after they dealt with all this... but right now?

Katie added on to what Warren had to say, after ducking to the floor stomach first as well, her head slightly raised to look to see if someone popped up.

"We're heeled, son! Three sticks of dynamite and a shotgun! But we won't bite until ya bite us though, got it?"

There. Two people threatening him. Or her. Either way. Maybe it was just some kind of critter scavenging about. There would be plenty of critters in a deserted town, looking for things to eat that the humans left behind. There certainly would be. It would be weird if it turned out they were freaking about like, an owl or something.

Bake We'll just ask Elena to add a new area into the compound. "Siobhan's Cleavage" - The spaciously large cleavage of an overweight, promiscuous cheerleader who wants to go to Beauty School. THREADS ALLOWED: 8

12:40 Slamexo She [Sidney] sells trollin' and trollin' accessories

02:41 Medic Why does the world hate my racist jackass--wait that speaks for itself.

Ken froze as soon as he heard the slightly muffled voice calling from inside the saloon. Dammit, he thought it was empty.......

He had no clue what was behind him in the dark, musty depths of the old bar. For all he knew, there were five rifles all pointed at his back.........or someone was bluffing.

He wasn't in the mood to find out.

"It's cool......partner," he said, feeling terribly awkward and utterly terrified. "I'm not armed. I'm just gonna back into here slowly, and we'll all be cool. All right?" Ken started slowly walking backwards, pushing the doors out of the way and hearing the floorboards creak with each step. It smelled of sharp, bitter liquor and dust; it was like walking into an alcoholic's attic. As he passed through the portal, the sun finally disappeared from view and his vision began to clear, revealing pitted, knotted walls made of rough wood that hadn't seen life in ages.

Katie dropped to the floor beneath the table as well. To Warren's disappointment, she told whoever was on the other side of the doorway exactly what weapons they had. He was too upset with her tactical faux pas to assess the possibilities of three sticks of dynamite.

Warren waited quietly for the stranger to make their next move. "I'm not armed. I'm just gonna back into here slowly, and we'll all be cool. All right?" It was a boy's voice, not terribly familiar. If he's not armed, and not fleeing, then he's not going to be playing the game. Good.

Slowly, the boy backed in through the saloon doors, leading with his backpack, his hands raised a bit, showing his lack of weapons. His boots 'clomped' on the wood floor just like all those old west movies. Warren half-smiled to himself at the iconic sound.

When the boy was all the way inside the saloon, Warren looked at his face, but he didn't look familiar. He glanced over to Katie a few feet away and hissed, "does this guy look familiar to you? Does he even go to Alderbrook High?" He kept his weapon pointed at the boy, trying to see if he had any weapons tucked in his pants or boots. If this guy isn't a student at Alderbrook, then we may have an even bigger problem on our hands.

Probably just a common folk, then. Not a bandit at all. You never know, though. Bandits came in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes they would pretend to be good guys and then turn out to be working for the bad guys. And even if he wasn't a bandit, he could still be a crook. The kind who'd kill you in the night, kidnap your women, and steal your shit. That kind of crook.

Crooks didn't just attack. Sometimes they manipulated and bluffed. He could have been bluffing about not being armed. It was easy to hide a small handgun, and in places where you would never expect. Up the sleeve, inside your pant leg, inside your underwear, everywhere you could possibly imagine.

Soon the sound of footsteps hit the old wooden floor. It was like one of those scenes in movies. You know, where the people were hiding from some sort of killer or another, as they walked around looking for them. It happened a lot in movies. That she knew.

Warren hissed if she knew him. To be honest, Katie didn't know that he had been upset that she ended up revealing what weapons they had. All she knew was that some guy had entered.

That's what they always said about the killer villain person, though. They'd always say "Oh, he was such a sweet quiet man. He kept to himself. I was surprised to find out he killed someone." You'd think people would figure it out after a while. But if this were the case with Kennyboy, well, she wasn't going to be fooled! She knew what they always said before someone got murdered. But what if he was telling the truth and wasn't a crook at all?

Bake We'll just ask Elena to add a new area into the compound. "Siobhan's Cleavage" - The spaciously large cleavage of an overweight, promiscuous cheerleader who wants to go to Beauty School. THREADS ALLOWED: 8

12:40 Slamexo She [Sidney] sells trollin' and trollin' accessories

02:41 Medic Why does the world hate my racist jackass--wait that speaks for itself.

Ken paused not far from the doors, hearing nothing. He could have sworn there was some sort of muffled noise, but he didn't have a clue what it could be or if he was just hearing things. Figuring he'd be dead anyway if they wanted him dead, he began to slowly turn around and keep his hands held out from his body, like he was about to have a metal detector run down the length of his torso.

As he turned, the room came slightly more into focus; it was still too dark to see exact detail, but he did see that there were two figures ducked behind a table not far from him. Until his vision was used to this level of light, there was no way he could tell exactly who they were, but from the hair it looked like two girls. So who had the manly voice?

"It's Ken Danielson, I remember him. Quiet guy, kept to himself...." Katie's whisper faded off as if she was thinking of something far away. Does she have a crush on this Ken guy? Doesn't matter right now.

Warren slowly stood up from behind the table. He still held the shotgun at waist-level, pointed at Ken, then he carefully lowered it until it pointed down at the floor. "Sorry we were jumpy just then. You startled us with the doors slamming thing." He pulled out one of the chairs from the corner table. "You want to come have a seat? We can talk like civilized folks trapped in a creepy ghost town, eh?"

He waited to see if Ken would accept his offer before continuing. "I don't know how much to believe of what the sheriff voice from the train said. Katie and I do have weapons, but I suspect that there's more going on here than we can see yet. What will happen if nobody tries to kill anybody else, eh?"

Warren sat down in his chair and turned over his poker hand. "Three of a kind, by the way," he said showing the two fives along with the wild deuce. He glanced over at Ken. "You want to be dealt in?"